


Grand Slam

by ackermom



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Daddy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Tennis AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 17:32:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7324294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackermom/pseuds/ackermom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erwin and Levi play tennis. They also play each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grand Slam

**Author's Note:**

> that pun of a title though

“You’ve played better,” Levi says when Erwin escapes from the press room. He’s waiting for him in the dark, narrow corridor under the stadium, presumably to congratulate him or fight him. He hangs to the side, bag draped over his shoulder, sweat still collecting on his forehead, and Erwin lets the crowd of officials pass between them, curious looks cast about, before he speaks. Eventually, the corridor empties.

Erwin smiles. “I’ve played worse too,” he says. Light leaks from beneath the press room door, and it casts a yellow glow on Erwin’s tennis shoes as he crosses to meet Levi where he stands. He slides his headband off, sighing, and stuffs it in his pocket as he reaches for the icy water bottle that Levi hands him. He drinks, his throat bobbing.

When he’s had his fill, he smirks down at Levi. “Anyway, you still lost.”

Levi furrows his brow and snatches the water bottle back. “You’re seeded higher,” he grumbles over the lips of the bottle, but he lets Erwin wrap a sweaty arm around his shoulder and bend to press a kiss to his scalp as he drinks. He stows the bottle in an outside pocket on his bag. Their movements seem to echo down the length of the dark hall, and even though he knows no one is watching, Levi still holds him at a distance.

“Come on,” he says, a hand reaching up to grasp Erwin’s fingers that hang over his shoulder. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”

“Mm, is there a victory prize waiting for me?”

Levi wrinkles his nose. “You just stole my chance at winning Wimbledon and you expect a reward?”

Erwin says nothing- he knows better- and smiles instead, letting Levi curl their fingers together.

“I meant to shower.” Levi shakes his hair out as they walk, and he pushes back his damp bangs with his free hand. “We can shower together, if you apologize for that shit you pulled in the last set.”

As they near the end of the hall, Erwin retracts his arm. “You know it was nothing personal.”

“Yeah.” Levi glances up at him, half-smiling. “If it was personal, you would have let me win.”

\---

Levi does pop champagne for him. 

It’s Erwin’s hotel room, so he doesn’t mind staining the sheets- “because I won’t have to look the housekeeper in the eye tomorrow morning,” he murmurs- when he pops the cork into the ceiling and lets champagne spill over his arms and drip onto his bare thighs. 

“You like that,” he says, doesn’t ask, as he licks foam from his fingers. It drips onto his stomach, down over his hips, and he doesn’t seem to notice or care.

Erwin will never understand him. They just showered.

“Did you buy this in advance?” Erwin asks when Levi hands him a bubbling flute. He keeps the bottle for himself, already buzzed on the tequila shots a competitor talked them into doing at the hotel bar, and shrugs.

“One of us was going to win.” He drops from his knees and crawls back across the bed to sit next to Erwin, their aching bodies thrown back in a mass of pillows. “Mind you, I wish it had been me, but…”

He shrugs again. “It’s a win, regardless.”

“I can’t get drunk tonight,” Erwin says when he finishes his champagne flute. His arm is curled around Levi’s shoulders, their legs crossed together under the sheets. “I have to play tomorrow.”

Levi tips the bottle back, the green glass pressed to his lips, and swallows the last drops. “You’re already halfway there,” he says. “Why stop now?”

Erwin doesn’t know where to kiss him first.

\---

They fuck on the floor, of all places.

“The bed is covered in champagne,” Levi protested.

“So are you,” Erwin exclaimed. “And that was your fault.”

Levi won that time.

“Anyway, it’s my back that’ll suffer for it,” he mutters into Erwin’s collarbone.

Erwin groans: Levi’s hands in his hair, Levi’s skin against his, Levi’s thighs clenched against his hips. He tastes the champagne on his lips, on the curve of his shoulders, on the ripe skin just below his nipples. Levi growls at him, clenching blonde hair between his fingers. And Erwin smiles, drunk on victory and not nearly enough alcohol for his age, and kisses Levi on the tender spots between his rib bones. His skin is warm; it’s not sweet, like Erwin thought it might be, but it tastes good anyways. He kisses Levi down his stomach, down his thighs, and up the shaft of his cock until Levi’s fingernails are nearly tearing skin from his scalp. Erwin takes the length into his mouth, tongue tossing back and forth, and trails his fingers up the backs of Levi’s thighs as he sucks him off, pre-come dripping from his lips.

He stops, suddenly, pulls his mouth off and watches Levi’s face contort.

“You’re a dick,” Levi hisses.

“Funny,” Erwin breathes, scaling back up to hover over him. “A few minutes ago, you were calling me Daddy.”

“I would never say that,” he exclaims, face scrunched and red. “Don’t kiss me with that mouth.”

\---

Levi emerges from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, even though Erwin just spent the better part of an hour fucking his naked body into the shitty hotel carpet. He tiptoes across to join Erwin at the scene of the crime. Together, they stare at the incriminating stain.

“I’ve seen worse,” is all Levi says.

Erwin sighs. “That’s twice you’ve stained my room tonight. Expect a bill in the mail soon.” 

“If you think about it, really, this second one is your fault. You enabled me.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the clean one,” Erwin says miserably, and Levi claps him on the back.

“I won’t be at your match tomorrow,” he says, but there’s no need to mention it. Erwin already knows. “But when you’re exhausted in the final set, just imagine me dumping a cold margarita all over your body.”

“Is that what I’m in for if I win?”

Levi shrugs and heads to bed. “We’ll see.”

\---

He does think of Levi.

But he doesn’t even make it to the final set. By the end of the third set, he’s sweating from every pore on his body, even places he never knew existed. The sun is brutal and the ache in his muscles is no better. He should’ve stretched last night, instead of fucking his rival into the carpet.

He thinks of Levi lounging in his hotel bed, his hair still wet from the shower, his face damn near mischievous as he pulls the bottle of champagne out from the drawer. He thinks of Levi on his knees, hands trailing up Erwin’s thighs as he laughs at something stupid. He thinks of Levi lying in bed with him, sheets pulled up around his shoulders as he drifts to sleep against Erwin’s chest. He thinks of Levi passing him the shampoo in the shower. He thinks of Levi insisting on brushing his teeth after a whole bottle of champagne and a round of bone-numbing sex. He thinks of Levi curled up on his side in the morning sunlight. He thinks of Levi kissing him goodbye before his match and he feels the unspoken “good luck” still lingering against his lips.

He thinks of Levi just as the ball is crossing the net, and he misses an easy hit.

The rest of the match goes downhill from there.

“I lost,” Erwin says later. “It’s probably your fault.”

Levi hums, as if he knew this would happen all along. “That’s too bad,” he says, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of Erwin’s face. “How am I supposed to be your trophy lover if you can’t even beat that guy?”

“I guess you have to run away with him,” Erwin says. “It’s alright. I understand.”

Levi reaches up to kiss him. “It was meant to be,” he says, and Erwin smiles.


End file.
